Those Hidden Smiles
by Quizicalcoatl
Summary: Did you know Norway's cross is actually a mobile phone? That England has a tattoo of an electric guitar... Somewhere suspicious? That France is cyberphobic and won't use modern technology unless he really, really has to? I do, and soon you'll know all this and more! ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

Title: Chat

Yes, this will be a series. It's gonna be about the little known facts in Hetalia, because I personally love learning these things, and some of them are downright hysterical.

Rating: K+ due to mild language, however the story is rated a T because some stories later on will have more sensitive topics.

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters and themes in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Talking: I started this at 11:51 PM with no real plot in mind when I figured out that Norway's cross barrette isn't actually a barrette... IT'S A GODDAMN MOBILE PHONE. HIMA. THIS IS TOO MUCH. (Check Hetalia Archives if you don't believe me). Also, it is totally normal to read the Hetalia Archives at midnight-ish (I am officially addicted please help). It evolved into... Something. I think the Viking Trio. I like it. I FINISHED AT 12:42 AM ENJOY.

I apologize in advance for any mistakes using the metric system. I am an American and I think it went okay (for me using the Imperial system my whole life cause America is the land of the free and stubborn, and also it is 12:38 AM as I type this do not blame me for... Actually, blame me a lot for my lack of good sleep habits), but please point out any mistakes in the reviews!

Small Fact(s):

-Norway's cross is actually a mobile phone.

-Norway and Iceland argue about mackerel a lot.

Chat:

For now, Denmark lies still and quiet (for once) on the ground beneath the indigo sky, speckled with stars. His two... Companions (brothers? Not biologically, but that didn't keep them from pretty much raising each other when they were little, did it?) lay on either side of him, eyes shut. His Viking instincts tell him "that's no good, we have to be on watch, always," but as usual, he manages to squash those to the back of his mind.

Camping reminds him of his Viking days a little too much, he thinks.

Then a ding goes off somewhere, and he hastily pretends to be asleep so he doesn't have to get out of his warm sleeping bag to answer it. It might be his phone, he's not sure. He wants to answer Sweden's texts even less (he's never seen Norway with a cellphone, but he knows the younger nation isn't cyberphobic because he does a great job of hogging the television).

When Norway groggily sits up, reaches for his barrette, and clicks a button, he stares in astonishment. By some miracle, Norway hasn't noticed him yet.

A voice mumbles something.

"Yes, yes, 140 kilograms," he yawns, holding the cross up. He glances up at the stars. "Why now?"

There's a short pause, and the voice mumbles something else.

Norway sighs. "Right, time zones. Sorry. Tired. Thanks for managing everything back home."

Another pause. More mumbles. Denmark is starting to be really annoyed he can't hear everything that's going on.

"140 kilograms of mackerel is not too much," he says. Then he goes ghost white. "Oh, I said kilograms, didn't I?"

A small noise of affirmation, Denmark could hear that much.

"I meant 140 grams. Why I am thinking in grams right now, I have no idea. Christ, did you actually think I would buy 140 kilograms of mackerel?" Silence. "Thank you for being such a supportive younger brother." Denmark could practically see the sarcasm as it left Norway's lips. Iceland, as he had now identified the other voice as, said something quietly. He caught a few words, straining his hearing. "Mackerel," "money," and "too much." He wasn't sure what Iceland thought his elder had too much of.

Norway immediately hung up.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Eveything Else

Rating: K+ due to mild language, however the story is rated a T because some stories later on will have more sensitive topics.

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters and themes in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Talking: Okay so hello it is I and I forgot to say this will have a really random update schedule. I'm finishing up Camp NaNoWriMo with 35,000 words total, and I'm ridiculously sleep deprived.

BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR MY NEW FIC, AND WITH MUCH LONGER CHAPTERS THIS TIME (YAY), "WE WERE NEVER HUMAN." It features the Nordic 5 and Sealand, exploring subjects rarely found in your usual superhero au. Plus, shenanigans.

I also watched all 9 Harry Potter movies (original 8 + Fantastic Beasts) with a 4 hour pause for sleeping. And sorry for the short length. I've already written over 2,000 words today and my brain is dead.

Small Fact(s):

\- Prussia gets angry if the name Mark or words that sound like Mark are mentioned.

\- Prussia usually doesn't notice Gilbird, and forgets about him surprisingly often.

Everything Else:

"Hey! No pets allowed!" the man said, stopping Prussia at the door. Prussia gave him a confused look.

"Uh, what?" he asked intelligently.

The human pointed at him. "No birds, especially on your head like that!"

Prussia frowned, then reached up to feel if there was a bird. Onlookers stifled laughs as the tiny yellow chick darted out of the way. "Birds are pretty awesome, but I don't have one. Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm Mark," the man said distractedly. "Please, sir, there is a bird on your head. I can't let you bring it into the theater."

"I'm sure it's a well-behaved bird if I can't even feel it," Prussia argued, glaring hard at him. "Now let me see the movie."

"Can't," Mark insisted. "Please, sir."

Prussia reached both hands up this time, and the bird jumped into the air for a moment. "Stop pulling my leg!"

"I'm not! The bird is smart-go look in a mirror or something. I'm sure everyone here will agree that there's a bird on your head?" Mark glanced around the room. A mumbled chorus of agreement rang out, accompanied by hurried nods.

Prussia took out his phone (well, Germany's phone...), held it at arm's length, and took a quick selfie.

"Oh my God, I really do have a bird on my head," he said in amazement.

"Yes, so if you would kindly get rid of the bird..." Mark trailed off.

"Nah, don't think I will. I think I'll name him Gilbird," Prussia said.

"Then you can't come into the theatre," Mark told him firmly, the shifting of his stance the only thing to betray his nervousness.

"Fine, I won't," Prussia said, then hissed venomously as if it were an insult, "Mark."

The bystanders watched in confusion as he turned on his heel and stalked off.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: TMI Dude

Rating: K

Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters and themes in this story; they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya.

Talking: Hello! It's me! And here comes a story about... BULGARIA! He's so underrated, honestly.

Also, yes, there will be a plot to this story!

Have I... Just created the crack pairing of LatviaxMoldova? What has my mind become?

Small Fact(s):

\- Bulgaria nods his head when he means no and shakes his head when he means yes.

\- Bulgaria is often disturbingly optimistic.

\- Moldova has fangs just like Romania's.

TMI Dude:

"Bulgaria, can I borrow some money?" Moldova asked sheepishly, sticking out his lip and widening his eyes and overall giving his best effort into these puppy eyes. He really wanted to go to this meeting.

Bulgaria glanced up and shook his head. "Of course," he said.

"Of course... Not?" Moldova wondered, eyebrows furrowed. "I was going to the Young Nations meeting and we all have to make a small donation to the cause to go a-and Iceland just put his money in, he said something about selling mackerel, and-"

"I said of course! Not much, though," Bulgaria corrected. "Iceland probably just got a good deal on some fish. Don't worry, I'm sure things will look up eventually!"

Moldova grinned, although it looked a little more like he was baring his fangs. So the puppy eyes had paid off after all! "Yay! Thanks!"

And so he ran off to take some money before Bulgaria could change his mind.

The next morning, he answered a call from Moldova. He listened carefully, then realized he had in fact been half-asleep that whole time and not listening carefully at all. He opted for asking incredulously, "You what?"

"I may have been roomed with Latvia, who may be nervous of my fangs-he blurted it out, so I'm pretty sure-and I may have bought him some candy with the money you let me borrow," he admits quietly. "He liked the candy, though."

"Oh! That's nice of you. I'm sure you'll be best friends and you'll get along perfectly and you'll never ever argue and when you're old enough he'll ask you out on a date and you'll get married and improve your economies together and live happily ever after," Bulgaria gushed, his soft smile the only hint of something odd.

There was a short, horrified silence, and then Moldova hung up.


End file.
